”Dave is dead.” The words came at the end of the second day of what was supposed to be a character-forming experience, a chance for 12 people to ”experience the wilderness to the fullest”.
Instead, the trek through the mountains and desert of Utah in the mid-western United States left David Buschow, a fit 29-year-old US air force veteran and security guard from New York dehydrated and hallucinating, his eyes bulging and tongue swollen. Less than 10 hours after setting off from the group’s overnight camp on the second day, Buschow collapsed and died.
According to the coroner’s report, he died from ”dehydration and electrolyte imbalance due to hiking in hot environmental temperatures with inadequate water and electrolyte replacement”.
But, an inquiry has found, the three wilderness camp instructors accompanying the group did have water. They chose not to offer it to Buschow, preferring that he attempt to complete the day’s task. Buschow died knowing he was just about 90m from the spot where water had already been found.
On Friday the family of the dead man sued the school running the course and its guides, including Shawn O’Neal, who was with Buschow when he died. ”He paid to experience wilderness. Instead of learning how to survive on his own, he was made to die,” S Brook Millard, a lawyer for the family, told Associated Press.
Advanced dehydration
Buschow’s death highlights the lack of regulation covering wilderness camps in Utah and other areas of the US. His trek was run by the Boulder Outdoor Survival School, whose courses are licensed by the US Forestry Service. The service owns the land and grants the school a permit to operate there. But there appears to be little if any state or federal oversight of courses for adults.
The participants on the 28-day course, which cost $3 175 per person, set off at 10am on July 17 last year with three instructors. Their task for the day was to hike through the oppressive heat only drinking where they found water. But the group was unable to find water until 7pm. By that time, Buschow and another member of the group were suffering from the effects of advanced dehydration.
”It’s hard to imagine how they could justify not giving this fellow water if they had it,” said Paul Auerbach, a leading authority on wilderness medicine. ”Who cares whether he finishes the course or not? The participants may want to push themselves, but there’s a point at which it becomes foolish.”
The school has denied responsibility, saying that Buschow signed a waiver and was aware that water would not be carried on the first three days of the trek. Its owner, Josh Bernstein, who also presents an archaeological history programme on the Discovery channel, told Associated Press: ”The group appeared to be within the normal parameters we’ve seen on the trail over the years. Many were, understandably, tired, but morale was high and the participants were determined to continue … [Buschow] seemed capable of completing the hike to camp that evening.”
The record of the day, reconstructed from witness statements and interviews carried out by law enforcement and the Forest Service, tells the story of the participants being led into hostile terrain in the most gruelling conditions.
The group, which included some Britons, set off for the 9,6km trek mid-morning, having spent the previous night sleeping in the open. As temperatures rose above 35C some found it increasingly difficult to cope with the heat, the lack of water, the exercise and the high altitude of Utah’s Dixie National Forest.
Buschow had brought a water bottle with him but was told to carry it empty. As the day progressed and he became increasingly tired, his pack was divided between the rest of the group to carry.
Most of the participants were aware that Buschow was having problems. One remembered Buschow saying that he was not a wuss but that ”something was not right”. His breathing was laboured, he was vomiting, falling and hallucinating and he consistently complained of cramping pains in his legs. The instructors advised him to eat pine needles.
After taking the entire day to hike the 9,6km to Cottonwood Canyon, the group eventually reached water. But about 90m short, Buschow once again ”plopped down” on the ground, with an instructor at his side.
A Forest Service summary of that instructor’s statement is chilling. ”They were within 100 yards of the next water source,” it reads. ”Buschow dropped down again on the trail. Buschow was repeatedly encouraged to get up and continue to finish the walk — Buschow said he could not go on. He was encouraged again, telling him people can go further than what they think they can. Buschow requested that [the instructor] get water for him. [Instructor] said he would not leave him and that they would rest awhile. Buschow was laying down at this time on his stomach.
”Then, [the instructor] ‘had a bad feeling and saw no sign of Buschow breathing, no chest movement’. Buschow did not respond to his name or shaking, he was turned over and his eyes were glassy.”
The instructor yelled out three ”hoots”, the agreed distress signal, and the other instructors — one of whom was a trainee — ran to help. Two of them, together with two students trained in first aid, tried for half an hour to resuscitate him, while the third climbed a ridge to phone for help. When a rescue helicopter arrived an hour and a half later, Buschow was dead.
It has since emerged that two of the group members were offered and accepted water from instructors on the trek. Buschow was not given the option.
The school said that by signing a waiver, ”Mr Buschow expressly assumed the risk of serious injury or death prior to participating.”
The local county attorney’s office and the Utah attorney general’s office declined to bring a case against the school or Bernstein, saying that there was insufficient evidence. – Guardian Unlimited Â